


Through a Glass, Darkly

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean lance, Alternate Universe - Dark, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Horror, Brainwashing, Crying, Cunnilingus, Face-Fucking, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galra Loyal Shiro, M/M, Mindfuck, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7811713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe where Prince Keith is one of Zarkon's loyal generals and The Champion never escapes, Prince Lance of Altea is captured and given as a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first section is the same as can be found in chapter 19 of 'Late Night Affairs' for the prompt: the ot3, one of the boys is changed by the galrans to be a pet/sex toy for the other two, fun things like heightened sensitivity, the ability to take it like a champ, maybe changed to be more physically appealing to their new masters, who knows, go wild
> 
> This is the continuation people wanted. We're all terrible people and Lance is suffering. (Also. Keith. Is not...Keith. But growing up with sadistic backstabbing aliens who force you to be on guard at all times will do that.)
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings cause Dark. As. Fuck. Body Modification and um. brainwashing and…uhhh *points up at the prompt* Yo? IDK man, fuck Lance’s entire life. Featuring Galra loyal Shiro, Galra!Keith, and unfortunate Altean!Lance.

When Zarkon promised them a ‘token’ to express how pleased he was with their work on the Earth campaign Shiro wasn’t exactly sure what he’s expected but the Blue Paladin, bound and gagged, on their chamber floor wasn’t it. 

But, in hindsight, maybe it should have been. What would Zarkon view as a more fitting fate for a paladin then to spend the rest of his days under the Galran Champions. 

Keith broke away from him, ears lying flat against his head as he stalked over to the bound man. The fur along the back of his neck was standing up, a clear sign of his agitation. He nudged the paladin with his toe, nose wrinkling at blue eyes narrowed and the paladin made a face that promised murder. Shiro had no doubt that if he weren’t attached to the floor, held fast by glowing energy ropes cross-crossing his body and looping into rings fixed in the floor, he’d be trying to squirm his way into a position to attack. 

“He smells and looks Altean.” Keith said finally. “We don’t want him.” 

Haggar chuckled as she swept fully into the room. “Because he is. The blue paladin is Prince Lance, younger brother to the Princess Allura.” 

Shiro arched an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He was aware of the prince, supposedly an impressive marksman and warrior in his own right, and that with the ‘return’ of Princess Allura had come her younger brother and their caretaker, Coran, but they didn’t know who the paladins were aside from pains in the ass. This was their first clue.

Supposedly dead 10,000 years ago only to now be the pilot of the blue lion. Interesting. 

Keith made an unhappy noise but Haggar clucked. “Don’t be ungrateful Prince Keith. Your uncle had him specially modified for you two.” 

She inclined her head towards Shiro then waved her hand; the bonds shimmered then vanished as they powered down. The prince proved to be fast, leg darting out to kick at Keith with one breath and scrambling to his feet in the next. He fell back into a defensive position, hands up and legs spread, weight on the back one. Shiro looked at Haggar. 

“Voice calibrated for you two.” 

He nodded then, voice hard, spoke. “Kneel.” 

The prince’s body trembled and then went rigid, as if all of his joints locked up. His teeth ground together and his eyes went wide; Shiro could see the sweat starting to bead on his forehead. It took a full minute before his knees finally buckled, taking him down to the floor with an echoing thud. Shiro was impressed; when he’d first been programmed he’d barely been able to withstand that long defying orders after months on conditioning. Certainly not right off the bat. 

The pain from defiance was excruciating, like being electrocuted as the blood turned to acid and every nerve sparked with terrible pain. It had reduced bigger and seemingly stronger fighters, the best in the arenas, to sobbing and vomiting in seconds. 

Tears swam in the prince’s eyes but didn’t fall even as his face twisted into a mask of humiliated horror. His lips moved but no sound came out; the color drained from his face, turning him ashen under the rich brown of his skin, and making the blue marking under his eyes stand out more. 

“You took out his vocal cords?” Keith asked. HIs expression had changed, violet eyes thoughtful and, maybe, gleaming with a hint of respect. 

“No. He’ll speak if you tell him too. Already programed to never attack the usual people or to run far. Unless you want him too.” Haggar smiled thinly. “We have changed some other things. To make him more responsive and…easier to share.”

Shiro hummed as he stepped closer and reached for the prince, fingers curling around his bicep. “You didn’t want to use him for the arena?” 

That was unusual. The first Altean the druids had gotten their hands on in nearly 10,000 years and she was letting him become a pleasure toy instead of using him in her experiments? 

“…The emperor thought he’d be better as a gift.” Her tone said she disapproved. 

“Up.” Shiro said softly, watching appreciatively as the prince once again fought the order. He gave in a little faster, stood up on shaking legs with tears leaking from his eyes. “Sit on the table then stay.” 

Another fight and then he took rapid shaky steps so he could basically collapsed onto the table Shiro had pointed to. He pushed himself up a moment later, skin shining with sweat and pupils blown wide from pain and, if Shiro understood pleasure toy conditioning properly, arousal. They were programed to enjoy everything, from pain to humiliation to being used as cruelly as their owner wanted. 

Shiro had never enjoyed one. Prince Keith had taken a liking to him early in his gladiator career and he’d belonged to the other since then. He touched no one else and no one else would dare touch him. Even now he was only acting because every time he looked over Keith met him with a look of approval. 

“Spread.” 

The prince flushed up to the tips of his pointed ears and, fingers digging into the table with such strength the metal was warping, his thighs parted. Shiro pushed up the layers of the deep blue chiton he was wearing until it was hiked up far enough for him to see what the druids had done. 

He knew enough about the standard process to see it had all been met. Small cock, no testicles, and a cunt. His asshole would be altered as well, to allow him to be taken with minimal preparation. 

“He’s breeding capable. I’m not sure why you’d want to but. It’s possible.” Shiro looked up at a soft wheezing noise. The prince was breathing hard, chest heaving, face very red and tears still running down his face. Haggar laughed again. “Oh. I don’t think he was aware of the changes. We brought him right down once everything was stable.” 

Keith sighed then, pushing Shiro aside, came to stand between the altean prince’s legs. He reached down, under the hitched up fabric of the chiton, but kept his eyes on the other’s face, watching him intently. His middle finger swept down along the seam of the Altean’s slit then back up. The other prince shuddered and the metal under his hands groaned as it was twisted further. Another pass and another then Keith’s finger pressed in. 

The Altean’s mouth opened in a small o and his head tilted back. Keith’s hand moved, finger pumping in and out; Shiro could see it was wet, covered in glistening liquid. 

Keith glanced back at Shiro, shoulder lifting slightly. 

“We’ll keep him.” Shiro said, speaking for his prince as Keith pushed a second finger into their ‘gift’. The metal of the table finally gave way as the Altean prince’s fingers punched through it. 

“Zarkon will be pleased.” Haggar said, a touch of mockery to her tone but when Shiro shot her a sharp look she was bowing. “Champion. Prince Keitheal.” 

She swept out of the room under Shiro’s careful gaze. He followed once she was gone, made sure the doors were secured, then went back to Keith’s side. He seemed to be done with his new toy, fingers withdrawn. 

“Bedroom is that way.” Keith pointed. “Get in the bed, touch nothing, don’t move. Shiro and I have to work so we can find the rest of your team.”

The Altean glared at them through half-lidded eyes but the effect was ruined by sweaty hair fanning over his face, parted lips, and having his legs spread wide, robes hiked up and hanging off his shoulder like some sort of debauched brothel slave. He slide down, chiton falling back into place, and stomped towards the bedchambers, head held high and an air of wounded pride about him. 

Keith rolled his eyes then leaned against the table, frowning at the holes. “I think he’ll be fun to break in. Like you were.” 

Shiro nodded and, when Keith held out his hand, parted his lips to let damp fingers slide over his tongue. He licked and sucked without being told to do it, cleaning away the tangy fluids. Keith watched him, eyes sliding to half mast. 

“We need to look at scans and the footage from the paladin’s attack. We took the blue paladin but they managed to not just leave with the blue lion but to take the red as well.” Keith mumbled. “And there’s still the Earth campaign to consider.” 

He felt a strange twinge in his chest at the mention of his home planet but suppressed it. He nodded to show he was listening to his prince and was rewarded with a half smile. 

“But we can play first.” 

\---

Prince Lance was on the bed as he’d been told, but he was sitting on the very edge, legs drawn up to his chest and arms hugging them, taking up as little space as he could. Keith could see it for the tiny act of defiance that it was; on the bed but just barely, glaring at them hotly from beneath the messy curtain of his hair. He considered striking him just to make a point but decided against it quickly.

Tonight would not be an exercise in pain, or at least not much pain. They would work on discipline and things of that nature soon enough but for now a more...pleasurable touch was needed. It was not, after all, pain that had broken Shiro down but kindness and pleasure.

And he wanted a show. A good one and it would be much sweeter this way.

Keith walked past the bed to the small sitting area and, with deliberate slowness, turned one of the plus chairs around so it was facing the bed. Shiro moved towards the bed, not needed to be told what Keith wanted. Shiro was well trained and showed it in his ability to predict what was needed of him. Keith had spent a lot of time making sure he had the human’s affection, respect, and loyalty and he considered it time very well spent.

Still there was some fun in making his intentions clear.

“Shiro, I think I will allow you to make further use of our new toy tonight. I believe I’ve had enough of a taste for now.” He tapped his fingers against his lips then licked the tip of the middle one teasingly. “Since you’ve been so useful with the Earth campaign.”

Invaluable, really. Shiro’s insight was serving Keith well. Letting him play their their toy was a small reward in comparison. And would serve Keith’s purposes just fine. Shiro would make sure to take good care of Lance.

The other prince shrank back some, eyes wide with panic even as color rose in his cheeks. There was no taste left on his fingers, Shiro had cleaned them well, but the embarrassed flush Lance gained was...pretty.

“Make sure he likes it.”

Shiro nodded. “Of course.”

The other prince shrank in on himself further and his gaze darted over to Shiro, eyes widening as the human dropped his vest to the ground, leaving him in only a thin undershirt and the loose pants he was wearing. He pulled at the strings holding his pants up then let them fall to puddle on the floor. Lance’s eyes grew almost comically wide as he looked over Shiro’s body.

Broad and thick, muscular and covered in scars from head to toe in all shapes and sizes. They served as very clear reminders of the fights he'd won in the gladiator arena. His cock wasn't hard yet but Lance was staring like he was afraid it was going to bite him.

“Have you never seen someone's else's cock before Prince Lance?” Keith asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. “We’ll make sure you're well acquainted soon enough.”

Blue eyes cut over to him, flashing with fury. If not for Keith's early command to stay put there was no doubt in his mind that Lance would have attacked him. But he was very much held in place and could only glare hotly at Keith and Shiro. Keith smiled.

Shiro shot him a look, warm and indulgent, before closing the gap between himself and Lance. He stopped at the edge of the bed, peering down at the prince who stared back, chest heaving and a soft wheezing sound leaving his mouth. Shiro reached for him and Lance jerked away as his hands flew up, open palms connecting with Shiro’s wide chest and then...nothing. There was fight and deadly intent in his eyes, his muscles were tensed and ready and Keith had no doubt he could have forced Shiro away considering how strong Alteans were, and his teeth were bared but. Nothing. His hands rested against Shiro’s shirt but he didn't move beyond that, no pushing or pulling or anything.

His eyes widened. Keith leaned back next his chair, fingers brushing over his lips again.

Lance’s arms started shaking, no doubt wracked with pain as his programing kicked in and set his pain receptors on fire. His fingers curled, clenching in the fabric of Shiro’s, as the trembling in his arms moved down to his shoulders and his lips parted around a pained whimper. It was no less impressive watching him battle the pain that came with disobedience or trying to cause harm to his new masters this time than it had been the first time. But more than being impressed by the strength Keith was eager to see what would happen when his attempts to fight failed and he realized that fighting was futile. Druid conditioning wasn't something that could be broken or worked around, they'd experimented and perfected their process over thousands of years.

It was far more than one little prince could hope to overcome but watching him squirming was...satisfying.

When he finally gave in, shoulders sagging and arms sliding down Shiro's body to hang limply at his side, his face twisted into what Keith could only describe as grief. The fight didn't so much flicker out of his eyes as it was swallowed up by something dark and resigned. Shiro touched his face, cupped his chin and swept his thumb over full lips.

Then, showing speed and the strength that Keith had noticed in him to begin with, Shiro bent and grabbed him around the waist, lifted him slightly, and tossed him back onto the bed with enough force to have him land towards the center.

The prince made a squawking noise as he bounced over the bed's surface then a higher pitched almost birdlike sound when Shiro crawled into the bed. He started to scramble back, feet kicking at the sheets but Shiro grabbed him by the ankle and yanked hard. The prince fell onto his back as his body was jerked forward, closer to Shiro.

“Hands above your head, keep them on the bed. Don't move unless I move you.” Shiro’s voice was a rumble from low in his throat; a delicious chill ran up Keith’s spine.

Shiro’s hand moved, running up Lance calf and under his chiton; the Altean bit down on his lip, head twisting away as his eyes shut tight.

“Were you fond of this on him?” Shiro asked, inclining his head towards Lance. Keith considered the question then shook his head.

It wasn't anything special, the most basic garb for someone in Lance's new station but not really befitting someone who belonged to a member of the imperial family. Not even a bastard half-breed like him would let their toys walk around in something that didn't reflect them at least a little. They would need something better. Appearances were important so he would need to-

The sound of fabric ripping brought him back to the present, stomach flopping. Shiro had shifted so his human hand was propping him up as the robotic one gripped the chiton and pulled. It tore as if it were nothing, ripped in a long tear from hem to stomach. Shiro pulled again, coming away with a mass of airy blue fabric that he then threw aside, leaving Lance bare save a few tatters clinging to his shoulders and over his chest. The Altean Prince shuddered, entire body shaking with the force of it, and a blush crept up his chest and neck to his face. His fingers flexed but he didn't move arms hands from where they were crossed above his head and lying on the bed. Keith sat up, leaning forward to get a good look at his new pet.

He wasn't unattractive, so Keith supposed he's have to give the emperor some credit in that regard. Warm brown skin, sharp blue eyes, ears to flowed into delicate points poking out of dark brown hair, and his features were sharp and thin. He was tall and his body was on the wiry side, lacking the heavy muscle Shiro had but not the leanly muscled body Keith had either...but not hard on the eyes at all.

Not what Keith would have chosen for himself, Shiro was what he'd taken for himself, but not bad either.

And Altean. He supposed it was quite the honor, really, that the Altean prince had been turned over to them. He would have thought Zarkon’s son, with his disturbing claim of ‘love’ for Princess Allura, would be interested and surely more entitled than Keith was. Being the half-breed son of Zarkon’s brother, tainted with human dna, didn't exactly win one the status some might think. If anything it was a liability; people assumed he would suffer from human weaknesses and had always been quick to try and exploit that.

But Keith was ruthless, had learned to from his father that he had to be that way in order to survive among the Galra, and he was strong, fast, and smart and, while strategy wasn't his strongest area he'd been sure to surround himself with people who were better. He utilized all of that and that was why he stood as one of Zarkon’s generals and why he'd earned himself the right to request Shiro as his own. And yet he was surprised by this gift. So much so that he'd wanted to refuse it, assuming there was some manner of treachery lurking.

But perhaps not and even if there was he and Shiro would figure it out. In the meantime word would spread that the Blue Paladin and last prince of Altea was reduced to warming his bed and that was a good thing. There were those who thought to stand against the empire, rebels who hid in the shadows and burrowed underground like vermin, and the rumors of Voltron’s return had emboldened them even though nothing had truly happened yet.

Beyond, of course, the paladins raiding one of their ships and somehow managing to get away with the red lion. But that had been, in essence, in exchange for the blue paladin. Instead of chasing them the Galra ship had retreated, thinking the Altean prince was the more important ‘win’ as it were. How true that had yet to be seen but it was none of Keith’s concern. He hadn’t been involved in that skirmish at all and if letting the lion go in exchange for Lance proved to be a mistake it wouldn’t be him who faced Zarkon’s wrath. Subjegating Earth was his one and only directive. They were in the system to receive this gift and then they would go back to monitoring Earth from the edge of that system.

With Prince Lance in tow it seemed.

Shiro pushed the Altean’s legs further apart and back, so his feet were flat on the bed and his knees bent, then dropped down to his stomach, head between Lance’s thighs. The angle was no good, Shiro’s body was in his way, but the way Lance's body jolted and his head dropped back told Keith all he needed to know about what was happening. He watched for a time, focus on the faces Lance was making and the whimpering sounds he let out as Shiro touched him. His body was straining, twisting and trembling like he was in pain, and in the quiet he could hear him whimpering.

One of Shiro’s hands, the robotic one, drifted up Lance's torso to rub and pluck as his nipples, working them into stiff peaks. The prince gasped wetly, back arching off the bed, and he turned his head to press it against his arm. His hips rocked up and his thighs twitched, pressing against the side of Shiro's head.

Keith's cock twitched. He rubbed it through his pants, squeezing lightly as a muffled moan dropped from Lance's lips. Shiro's other arm was moving, muscles flexing under his skin, and slick noises were beginning to mingle with Lance's breathing.

Just this, their new toy losing composure and control, stretched out with Shiro between his legs, was enough to make Keith’s mouth dry. They did look good together. He squeezed his cock again then dropped his hand to his side.

“Tell me what Shiro is doing to you, and only what he's doing.”

Lance’s fingers gripped the sheets underneath him, pulling them taut, and Keith could hear his breathing, fast and uneven. He was fighting the compulsion again but gave in faster this time, pushing out shaking words.

“H-he’s licking m-me.” His voice was thick with anger, shame, and what sounded to Keith like arousal. “And t-touching me.”  

Keith grinned. “Where?”

Lance picked his head up to glower at him fully as he bite out a response. “This thing you-ah! Ngh!- sick assholes ma-made.”

He blinked, momentarily surprised at the angry words, then chuckled. He hadn't ordered him to respond nicely and so Lance was already testing the programming, finding the boundaries. No matter, let him push. The situation wouldn’t change.

“Your new cunt.” Keith corrected as he slid out of his chair to cross over to the bed. He knelt down on the far edge then crawled closer to settle next to Shiro, close enough to see the sweat beading over Lance’s skin. “Try again. What is Shiro doing to you?”

Lance’s eyes were brimming with tears threatening to spill over at any moment. There were no words for a beat, only panting breaths as Lance squirmed in a mix of pain and pleasure as he once again tried to fight the compulsion. Shiro pushed one of his legs up higher until it was bent far enough to nearly touch his chest. It let Keith see some; two fingers deep inside of Lance, moving in and out, and the flat of his tongue, in next to his fingers then dragging out and up to lap over Lance’s swollen clit. His cock, shorter than Keith’ fingers fully hard, was an angry red at the head and dripping thin streams of precum.

Shiro’s lips sealed over his clit and Lance jerked, legs spasming, and his eyes slammed shut. “L-ah-icking and touching my-” His voice broke on the last word, let it come out as an angry stuttered whisper. “cunt.”  

“Does it feel good? Tell the truth.”

Shiro’s mouth moved up, tongue sweeping through the puddle of precum around his cock then up to swirl over the head. He sucked Lance’s cock into his mouth, took the whole thing in easily. Lance body went rigid and his mouth parted around a shouted "Yes!” followed by a keening whine.

Shiro’s throat worked was he swallowed; when he pulled off of Lance’s cock it was with a wet pop and a stream of drool trickling out of the corner of his mouth. Keith reached to swipe the spit from his lips but kept his gaze on Lance. His face was turned to the side, half hidden in the side of his stretched out arms but there was no hiding that his face was wet or how hard he was breathing.

Shiro’s fingers slipped free of Lance then slide down, crooked up and pushed. Lance inhaled sharply then groaned openly when Shiro started moving his fingers in him. The human was quick to stretch the other prince, and the changes to Lance’s body no doubt helped, and had four fingers pistoning in and out of him in short order. Lance whimpered and pressed his face harder against his arm and down against the bed. His cock started to fill again, rising to attention under Shiro’s ministrations.

Shiro pulled his fingers free then gathered Lance up to straddle him, front to back, with his legs splayed wide. Shiro held him up then dragged him down; Lance cried out, body going tense as Shiro’s cock breached his body and then he was limp, head lolling back against Shiro’s shoulder when their bodies were finally flush.

Shiro sighed, hands gripping narrow hips, and looked past Lance at Keith as he began to move, slowly moving his hips to fuck up into Lance. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and heated. A tingle ran up Keith’s spine.

Watching Shiro’s cock in someone else, sliding in and out Lance’s stretched pucker with upward thrusts hard enough to rock Lance’s body was strange, and rendered Keith’s mouth dry again. He knew the feel of Shiro inside of him, the size and width of him filling him up, grinding into him and while he’d never been inclined to share there was something to knowing how Lance must have been feeling. His cock was straining against the front of his pants, hard and demanding his attention.

He crept closer then reached to press his fingers into Lance’s soaked pussy. He was dripping wet and tight around Keith’s fingers as they slide deeper into him. Lance clenched down hard, moaning as he started fucking his fingers into him.

“Oh.” Keith murmured as he rubbed against Lance’s walls and felt him spasm around his fingers, body practically sucking him in. “It does feel good, doesn’t it? That’s what the druids made you for, to want to be touched and fucked. That’s all you're good for now, just a slutty little prince made to warm cocks and beds for his masters.”

A whimper was his only answer. Keith thumbed over Lance’s clit, hot and engorged under his touch, and rubbed a slow gentle circle. Lance’s hips stuttered up, driving Keith’s fingers deeper into him then back down to rock onto Shiro’s cock.

“Do you like how my cock feels? The truth.” It was Shiro who asked this time, voice only a little strained. His pace picked up and Keith could hear the slap of skin against skin when their bodies meant. He moved his fingers to match the pace.

Blue eyes cracked open, wet and red rimmed, and he hissed his answer through clenched teeth. “Yes.”

“I wonder what your sister would think of this.” Keith mused as his finger twisted and curled. “Seeing you getting off like this. Knowing that you’re a galra whore now and that you can’t help but love it. That this is what you are now, needy holes begging for cock.”

He wiggled his fingers and Lance bore down on them, a sobbing gasp welling up in his throat. Lance’s cock bounced in time with Shiro’s movements, smearing fluid over his skin. His eyes were still shut tight, brows knit together, and he made increasingly loud and needy sounds as Shiro pounded into him and Keith fingered him.

When Lance came again, cock spurting clear fluid, Keith could feel his body convulsing and how much wetter he became, practically gushing around his fingers. He cried out, eyes flying open wide, then bit down on his lower lip to muffle his noises. Shiro followed a few moments later, huffing out a breath against Lance’s skin as he went still. When the Altean was pushed up and off of Shiro it was with a trail of cum pattering down his inner thigh, mixing with the juices that leaked out when Keith withdrew his fingers.

Keith reached into his pants and eased out his cock, pumping it roughly. He rubbed his fingers over the head and dragged the sticky wetness there down over his shaft as he considered the Altean laid out before him. Lance looked tempting, sprawled out on the bed and gulping in air like a man who’d been drowning, legs pressed together with cum streaking his body. He’d wanted Shiro to have him first, had planned to wait for another time but he found himself pushing the Altean onto his back and kneeling between his legs. Lance was boneless and limp as a children’s toy, not so much as twitching when Keith hauled one of his legs up to drape over his shoulder.

His cunt was tight and spasming as Keith sunk into him with one hard push. The first thrusts into his dripping heat were slow and shallow, just getting a feel for Lance, and to keep from coming immediately. Lance’s eyes were closed again, face turned away, and saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth; he looked destroyed and when Keith started to thrust into him harder he whimpered, insides clenching down around Keith’s cock.

He let go of Lance’s leg and reached between them to press his fingers to his clit again. He felt Lance shudder, cunt fluttering around him.

He felt amazing around him, snug and hot, and fucking into him was delicious. Wet squishing sounds filled the air and wetness leaked out around his cock with every push deep into him. Lance’s body squeezed him, muscles clinging to Keith’s cock, and Keith’s hand on his hip gripped hard to hold him closer. He felt his orgasm creeping up, pressure coiling low in his gut, and slammed deeper into Lance, smiling as the other prince cried out and panted under him, face twisted in pleasure.

“We want to hear you.” Shiro rasped from besides them. “Let us know how good it feels.”

It was like a dam burst, whimpers and moans turning to wet hiccuping cries and ‘good, it feels good’ mixed with pleas for more, harder, quiznak, please. Keith could see his eyes again, foggy and glazed over, and his face was very red.  

He snapped his hips forward again, as hard as he could, made Lance slide across the sheets from the force and the Altean shouted loudly, a tremor going through his heaving body. Lance’s fingers curled and his body strained up, sweat painting his body and face, and the muscles around Keith’s cock rippled and spasmed as he came again, cock dribbling more clear fluid.

Another thrust and another and then Keith was spilling into his still convulsing body. He slumped down over him, taking the time to move Lance’s leg back down to the bed, and ground against him as he emptied himself in strong pulses.

When he was done he rolled off of him with a groan, cock slapping against his thigh wetly. He pushed himself up, propping his head up on his arm. Lance was lying there, cum dripping from his body and tears from under his eyelids, misery thick in the air around him. It was a lot less pleasing a sight that watching him gasp and moan.

“Don’t look so upset.” And Keith was sure that he was upset, he had seen the same hollow-eyed look on Shiro once upon a time when he’d tried to pretend he didn’t love winning in the arena.

But Shiro had come around and so would Lance. It was what the druids had made them, what they were built for, who they were now. There was no going back.

 --

\---

Lance scrubbed his body hard, refusing to let himself cry anymore. He'd been told to clean himself, inside and out, and the acidic burn that flooded his veins whenever he so much as thought about disobeying was only part of the reason he had scurried from the bed into the bathroom like his life depended on his. He felt sick and...wrong. He could feel their hands and mouths and their cocks in him still. Was sure he could feel their seed inside of him and that especially made his stomach churn. 

The Witch said he was 'breeding capable now' and he didn't...he didn't know what he would do if-

He swallowed back another wave of nausea and bitterness in the back of his throat.  

He couldn't even think about that. 

For now he had to get clean. Had to work up the nerve to put his hand down there and touch. He'd looked, just for a second, and hadn't been able to stop himself from being sick. What had that witch done to him? Why? It was all different, all of it, and he felt sore in places he'd never imagined being sore and he. couldn't. touch himself there. Not any of it. He needed to because he'd been told to and the compulsion was already starting to burn him from the inside out and make his head throb but it was

He wanted it gone. to dig his fingers in and just claw it all away, to curl up and scream. He wouldn't do that though. He would wait until he could find a way to escape and go back

Back

Back to what? Like this? What would Allura say when she realized what he'd become? What about the other paladins, those strange 'Humans' who'd woken them up. They barely knew him at all and he was what, going to back to them as...something disgusting. Used. Galra whore. 

He scrubbed harder

Would Blue even let him pilot her? Would she be able to tell that he'd enjoyed-

The sound of the door opening made him jump and turn so abruptly he almost lost his foot, hands coming up as if to defend himself. Which was laughable because even trying made his head try to split itself open. Just thinking it made his teeth ache. 

It was the human, Shiro. He hovered in the doorway for a moment, eyeing him. He was naked but Lance made himself watch his face, didn't dare look any further down. Not that it mattered since he'd already have the human inside of him, so big he'd been sure he was going to be torn apart but he'd still been practically gagging for it. If he hadn't been commanded to stay still he might have...might-

The human stepped into the shower with him and gently made him turn to face the wall. Lance blinked at the gray-toned material, something water resistant and plain, then jumped against when fingers sank into his hair. 

"Shh. You're fine." The human said quietly as his fingers started to rub and scratch over his scalp, working something sweet smelling into his hair. "I'm not going to do anything to you."

Laughter bloomed and then died on Lance's tongue. "You. You ra-" He stopped, squinting with burning eyes, letting that die as well. 

Instead he leaned his head against the wall and let surprisingly gentle hands run over him. It was...nice, in a way that made his chest feel tight and, as the human hummed something tuneless but soothing while soaping up his lower half, but carefully avoiding *there*, something broke. He leaned against the wall and cried, heavy sobs that rattled in lungs and hurt his throat. The human stroked his hair and back. 

It reminded him of Allura. 

When he was cried out, so drained he could barely stand and felt only numbness inside, he was carried back out and laid on the bed. Lance wanted to recoil but he lacked the energy to do it. The human settled on one side, curling around his body and draping an arm over him. The Galra prince laid on his other side, facing away from him, but warm and soft where his fur brushed against Lance's skin. The lights were dimmed and a hand swept over his face. It was all the warning he got before warm lips pressed against his own, almost chastely. 

"You were good, pet. Tomorrow we'll reward you." 

Lance's stomach churned with a mixture of anticipation and shame. He'd been good? 

Why did hearing that make him feel so...warm? 


	2. But Then Face to Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sacrifices must be made sometimes

“Lotor,” Keith’s voice rang out in the quiet of their quarters. Lance could hear the hostility in it mixed with annoyance that the Galra prince wasn’t even trying to restrain. “Do you require something?” 

“Where’s your new toy?” The voice was dimly familiar. It invoked a memory of being cold and naked, strapped down to something hard and unforgiving, as someone sneered that they didn’t want him. “Father has sent me with an...order involving the Altean.” 

There was a moment of silence then the bedroom door slide open to reveal Shiro, expression unreadable. “Lance, come out here.” 

He hesitated for a moment, didn’t want to obey but the burn was already there, rising up as soon as the words were out of the human’s mouth. It prickled, like sharp edged pins were tumbling around under his skin, but hot, and got worse with each passing second. He knew it would be razor sharpness in his veins, tearing him apart on the inside, and a burn like he’d swallowed acid and then his head would start pounding like it was going to explode and his lungs would constrict as his throat tightened up.

He would give in; he’d learned that the hard way when he’d first been taken and they’d started doing things to him. His brain would scream for him to not obey but the pain would push his body to action, had made him kneel before the druids on command just so it would stop. He had thought, when it had started, that nothing could be worse than than. 

He knew better now. What had happened with Shiro and Prince Keitheal had been so much worse than he could have imagined. Not just because of what they had done to him but...because of...everything about how it had happened. How his body had betrayed him, and kept betraying him. 

He stood up and followed Shiro out to the main room before the pain could really start to build in him. These weren’t the orders to fight against, not something so small and petty. There would be a time to fight and he would be ready to throw everything he had into not letting his knees buckle, but this wasn’t it. 

There was another Galra in the room with Keith; a bit taller with long white hair swept back from his face, sharp featured, and lightly furred in the same manner Keith was. He was wearing a military style uniform, decorated more heavily than Keith or Shiro’s; golden eyes swept over to Lance and then looked over him. The way his eyes ran over Lance’s body was exaggeratedly slow, somehow oily and slimy as if it had a physical presence, and made Lance’s skin crawl. 

He was naked and as the Galra’s lips spread into a grin that could only be called filthy he felt even more exposed than he had when Shiro had ripped his clothing off. More exposed than he’d been since then, even though Keith and Shiro kept him naked at all times. He couldn't so much as walk into the bedroom and dress himself in Prince Keitheal’s or Shiro’s clothing because it wasn't on the ‘okay to touch’ list. It made things worse in some ways; not only was he captured and essentially bond by his own traitor of a body but he didn't even have clothing to act as a barrier. He was totally exposed to their eyes and touches at all times, vulnerable to any action they wanted to take. 

And as bad as that was this, being under this Garla’s lecherous stare, was somehow worse that being at the mercy of the men who had ra- who were now his captors. Though maybe the fact that they so rarely touched him, where this man looked like he wanted to  _ eat _ him and lick his bones clean, was making all the difference. 

He had to sleep with them, usually trapped between their bodies, someone's breath at his back, and cock digging into his ass, and his face pressed against either Keith's neck or on Shiro’s chest by morning but beyond that there was very little contact. And sharing a bed wasn’t...terrible. A little hot and sometimes he felt like he was suffocating or strangled but for the most part it wasn’t so bad. Maybe. Maybe if it hadn't been against his will, which it was, he might have...might have-

It didn't matter what he might have felt otherwise because he was a prisoner and they. They were Galra, even if Shiro wasn't actually Galra and the prince was sort of strange looking with his violet eyes and black hair. They were his enemy. They...had done things to him that he tried desperately to not to think about because thinking about it made it too real. 

He didn’t want it to be real. 

And yet it was this white haired Galra who was making him feel sick to his stomach, not Keith and Shiro. He moved a hand to shield himself reflexively; the Galra laughed cruelly and Lance flushed as he looked away. 

“They gave you a modest whore. How charming.” 

Lance could see Keith’s flat look out of the corner of his eye. “Lance, come here. When you’re in the company of royalty or military officers you are to sit or kneel at mine or Shiro’s feet.”

He bristled and started to draw back but a hand at the the small of his back, pushing him forward, made him move in the other direction. He glanced back at Shiro, who regarded him with the same blank expression he’d been wearing a moment ago, then down at his feet. Keith was sitting on a short couch, one of two that the main room boasted, with a sour expression on his face. There was a cushion sitting on the floor, deep red and plush, at Keith’s feet; Lance didn’t need to ask to know that was where he was supposed to sit. 

He did sit, face so warm that he knew he must have been as red as the cushion, but it had more to do with Shiro’s hand sweeping up to his shoulder and pushing ever so slightly than a desire to listen. The fabric was cool and slippery against his skin and the cushion itself was thick and soft enough that he practically sank into it. He arranged himself carefully, hands falling to cover himself; Shiro squeezed his shoulder then moved to stand at the side of the couch next to Keith. He looked imposing like that, arms crossed over his broad chest, stone faced, scars dark against the creamy amber of his skin. It was very clear, looking between him and Keith, that the other Galra had them both on edge. 

Keith’s hand touched the back of his neck and fingers curled there. His thumb swept up along the side of his neck then went still, holding him but not apply any pressure.

“This is Emperor Zarkon’s son, Lotor.” Keith said, voice dark. The color drained from Lance’s face and it was only Keith’s touch that kept him from recoiling. This was Zarkon’s son? Grinning at him toothily and looking on the verge of laughter?

The other Garla’s, Lotor, mouth curved into a smirk. “We’ve met but I doubt he recalls. He was rather heavily sedated but father offered your prize to me first. I didn’t think that sticking my cock in the brother of Princess Allura would win me much favor with her so I suppose you were the next best option.”

Lance sat up a little straighter at the mention of this sister then frowned; why would Lotor care about winning favor with Allura? 

“Pity. He is pretty.” Lotor did look almost disappointed for a moment, much to Lance’s dismay. His skin started crawling again, the very thought of having been stuck with that Galra instead of Keith and Shiro making him want to shrink in on himself, and he couldn’t understand why. 

They weren’t any better. Worse, even. Lotor had refused him, for whatever reason, but Keith and Shiro had...used him. Why would he prefer them? 

But maybe that they hadn’t tried to fuck him again had something to do with it. He’d figured they would, that he’d be ordered under them right away and often, and that they’d make him enjoy it. That they would humiliate him by making him admit that it felt good. And it had felt food, the entire time, so good that he’d come again and again, hating himself and feeling ashamed down to his very core. But also unable to stop them or stop himself. 

But there was none of that. Other than touching him when they slept, and occasionally waking up to being rutted against, they paid him very little mind. He didn’t understand it at all. He was happy...grateful, even but it didn’t make sense to him. Had they decided they didn’t want him? Had he done something wrong to make them reject him and why was that something that made him so nervous? 

He’s seen them fuck each other once, stumbled out into the main room one morning to find Shiro bent over a table with Keith behind him, scratching marks on to Shiro’s back as he thrust into him. He’d wanted to leave but an order to stay had forced him to do just that. Watch as they gasped and groaned, bodies meeting with loud wet slaps of skin against skin as they moved together. When it had finally been over, Shiro gasping as he emptied into his hand and Keith biting an angry bleeding mark on Shiro’s shoulder as he came inside of him, Lance had been...

He’d been hard, distressingly so, and...wet, dripping between his thighs and down the crack of his ass, and hot, sweating hard. He heart had been thumping hard in his chest and breathing had felt like it was impossible; he’d been so sure they were going to call him over and start touching him again but, instead, he’d been sent back to the bed while they’d cleaned up. 

The temptation to touch himself had been there, undeniably strong, but he didn’t dare do it to the image of his captors. Didn’t want to touch the cock that still didn’t feel like it was his, barely half the size it had been before and that...that other. Part. He didn’t want to touch it all if he could avoid it, didn’t want to acknowledge it was there. 

But he’d wanted to. He knew that it was whatever they’d done to him that made him like that, turned on by something he shouldn’t have been, that it wasn’t *him* and yet it was him, huddled under the sheets with precum and other fluids leaking out him, turned on and hating himself. Not acting on the need to touch himself had reduced him to tears, more useless pointless fucking tears that he couldn’t make stop. 

He felt like he was crying a lot of the time, huddled in on himself and dreading the return of his ‘masters’ and wondering if this would be the time when they wanted him again. He was afraid constantly. Fighting them would have been better, easier. Pain was...he could handle pain. There had been pain when he’d first been taken, torture as they tried to get information about his sister and the other paladins after him, and he’d weathered it. But what had happened to him hadn’t been pain. It wasn’t beating him or strangling him or cutting him open and watching him bleed. 

It was worse. 

“An interesting event took place two cycles ago. Sendak and his fleet managed to track the red lion to some backwater planet. They attacked in hopes of being able to crush the remaining paladins and take possession of the lions.” 

Lance went cold all over, breath sticking in his throat. They’d found Allura and the others? Attacked them? What had happened? Were they still alive and safe? Had they lost any of the lions? Had they managed to win without him or had not having a pilot for Blue hurt them? 

“They were defeated rather handily when the paladins managed to form Voltron.” Lotor looked down at Lance as he spoke, eyebrows rising slightly. 

Keith’s hand tightened on his neck. “How? The blue lion-”

“Is being piloted by the Princess Allura.” Lotor leaned forward, hand outstretched. There was a crystal, the same sickly pink everything the Galra used was, resting there. It lit up, a light deep inside flickering to life, and a holoimage was projected from it. 

It was the frozen image of his sister, in armor similar to his own but pink in places his was blue, with her hair drawn up and a helmet tucked under her arm. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line and her blue eyes were bright with fury. Even that flickering unmoving image radiated with anger. 

His heart stuttered in its rhythm and his lungs were suddenly painfully tight, as if they’d been caught in a vice like grip. Allura was piloting Blue? They’d formed Voltron? That was…

The image came to life and Allura’s voice, thin and tinny, rang out. 

“I am Princess Allura of Altea and Paladin of Voltron.” Her eye were angry but somehow cold as ice, chips of shattered blue staring out at them. Lance felt as if she was staring right at. “This is a notice for your emperor, Zarkon. Voltron has returned and your reign will be stopped. The harm you have done will be answer for and the-” She paused here, eyes darting to the side before her expression became harder, more determined. 

“The things you have stolen will be taken back.” 

Lance shuddered even as something warm and hopeful bloomed in his chest. He’d never seen his sister look like that but but he couldn’t help but believe every word she was saying. She was going to come for him. If he couldn’t save himself she would. 

The image froze, as Lotor settled back into his seat, went black. Lance started to push himself up, a protest on his lips, but another squeeze from Keith brought him firmly back to reality. He glanced up and meet irritated violet eyes. 

“Stay and don’t say a word.” Lance’s body followed the order before his brain could make that choice to do so, muscles locking up and mouth slamming shut.

“We miscalculated your toys importance it seems. They barely skipped a beat since losing him.” Lotor closed his hand around the crystal, smirking again. “They don’t need him at all but the emperor thinks he might have some use in spite of that.” 

Lance bit his lip, the words landing like stones on his shoulders. Didn’t need him? They...well, no, they didn’t did they? Allura was already piloting Blue and they’d formed Voltron for the first time without him. But that was good thing. It was...better that they didn’t need him, wasn’t it? 

“That message went out over general channels 2 cycles ago and there had been some...rumblings among some of our ‘allies’. Father is concerned that Voltron, and the princess, might cause some people who might not otherwise rebel to attempt it.” Lotor looked down at Lance again. “But he feels that a display with your new toy will quell that.” 

“A display?” Keith asked, voice stilted. “What kind of display?” 

Lance was wondering the same thing but, also, didn’t want the answer. There was a glint in Lotor’s gleaming eyes that made him want to punch him, to wipe the smugness on his face from it with his fists. 

“To make use of him before our allies. Publically showing the last prince of Altea is nothing more than an eager whore for the Galra will make quite the impression.” Lotor looked almost gleeful as he said the words. “Prove his obedience by putting him to use on the cocks of others.” 

Lance was going to sick. Pain or not he tried to stand, shaking his head. He felt it, the pins and needles in his blood and acid coursing through his veins. The pressure started to build in his head as he wrenched away from Keith’s attempt to force him back down. He didn’t make it to his feet, ended up on his ass a few steps away from Keith, clutching his head as the pressure built into a stabbing pain. He tried to push it aside, couldn’t just be silent for this. 

He was not...not that. He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Wasn’t what had already happened bad enough without making it public? And...more people? Could he say no? Would he be able to or would his body betray him again, force him to beg like he wanted them to be inside of him, to admit that it felt good? 

Why was this happening to him? 

He couldn’t breath. His ears were ringing and his vision was watery, a part of his brain screaming for him to give in, obey, stop the pain, do as he was told. He grit his teeth, refused to give in even as his muscles started to burn and twitch, nerves exploding with pain. He wouldn’t do this. They couldn’t make him! He would never submit to such a thing!

But even as he had the thought and held onto it tightly his heart was sinking because he knew it wasn’t true. He would scream and cry in his head, maybe even out loud if they allowed it, but if they commanded him to service Zarkon’s entire army he wouldn’t be able to not do it. Wouldn't be able to stop himself from enjoying however many cocks they lined up for him to take even if he wanted to die on the inside. 

He couldn’t...this couldn’t happen. 

A hand gripped his arm tight and hauled him up to his knees; Shiro was bent over him, eyes dark. “Bedroom. Now.”

Lance was all too happy to do just that, scrambled up to his feet and all but sprinted for the bedroom; the pain that came with the compulsion to obey vanished. 

“Oh.” Lotor chuckled. “Your toy is spirited. That will make for a better display.”

Lance didn’t stop until he was in the bathroom, bent over and retching. 

He hated this. Hated his body and himself and Keith and Shiro and the Galra.  

He needed to escape. He was trying to come up with a plan, trying to get into the ship's systems to see if he could find a map. Listening at the door to get a feeling for how the watchguard moved around, timing it. He didn’t know what he was going to do once he was free, what to do about this body he was trapped in and the way it responded to things but that was something he could deal with once he was free. 

Which he would be but would it be soon enough? He needed...he needed to do something to stop it from happening or buy himself more time if he could. But how was he going to do that? He was a slave to the Galra, a bed warmer, they wouldn’t do anything for him just because he asked for it. 

But he couldn’t just wait to be hauled away to become the plaything for the emperor and his ‘allies’.  

He finished emptying his stomach, brushed his teeth, and, throat burning and mouth coated with bitterness, shuffled back to the bedroom door. He couldn’t step out, the compulsion keeping him right on the threshold and still silent from the earlier command, but Keitheal noticed him in spite of that. The Galra prince was where he’d been, sitting on the couch, but now he was frowning down at a tablet in his hands. He set it aside when he noticed him standing there, violet eyes darkening with unconcealed anger. 

Lotor was gone, thankfully, and Shiro was sitting down now, staring fixedly at a holo image of a green and blue planet. 

“You wish to say something? To apologize for that shameful display perhaps.” Prince Keitheal’s voice dropped to low growl as he spoke; Lance’s stomach made an impressive effort at tying itself into a knot. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, that he didn’t owe his captors anything let alone obedience or to not make ‘shameful displays’. 

And yet he wanted to apologize. He didn’t understand it, wanted to recoil from the desire. Even more so when Keith eyed him, gaze sharp and furious. Why did that make him...feel...

“Go ahead then.” Keith leaned back in his seat. “Come in and say what you want to say. I’m busy.”

Lance took a deep breath, steeling himself, then spoke, choosing his words carefully. “I will not be...part of the emperor's disgusting display.”

Shiro looked away from his holoimage, eyebrow going up as he exchanged a look with Keith. The Galra prince tilted his head slightly, large ears lying back against his skull for a moment, then crossed his arms over his chest. 

“You intend to defy the emperor?” 

Lance flinched minutely then looked at the ground. The words he knew he needed to say were there but they were sticking in his throat, unwilling to be spoken into existence. It was, it seemed, unnecessary, but Keith spoke again after a short pause.

“Or do you want me to do so on your behalf?” Keith asked, dragging the words out. “You think I should refuse Zarkon something he has requested of me?” 

“I...I belong to you, don’t I?” He asked, hands clenching at his sides. Doing this burned him, made him want to retch again, but he needed to be smart. He wasn’t ready to make an escape attempt and for all he knew this ‘display’ was happening in mere hours anyway. He had to do this. “Can’t you do something?” 

“Why would I?” Keith asked; Lance looked up to find the other prince looked genuinely curious and so did Shiro. “What have you done to earn such a favor from me?” 

What had he done to earn a favor? He...earned? Right. Of course. Prince Keitheal would want something from him in return. The problem laid in what Lance had to offer which was-

He swallowed again then, heart thumping in his chest, walked hesitantly closer. Keith’s eyes stayed on him, neutral and giving away nothing. It was Shiro who twitched in surprise when Lance came a stop in front of Keith and, lip between his teeth, eased himself down to his knees. He glanced up at the human, found him frowning slightly, and ducked his head again. This was bad enough without feeling like one of his captors, of all people, was judging him.  

He put his hands on the Galra’s knees and, when he was neither encouraged or pushed away, pushed the other man’s legs apart. There was a moment when he thought about doing something else, namely ripping Keith’s leg off (he could. He was more than strong enough) but a twinge of pain had him pushing the thought away. He could barely entertain the thought of doing harm to his ‘owners’ without it hurting at least a little. 

His hand was shaking as he dragged it up the Galra’s thigh then over to rest over Keith’s crotch. He pushed down carefully until he felt him, currently flaccid, beneath his hand. He closed his eyes, hoping to banish the burn he could feel behind them, and rubbed the other man through his clothing. Keith made a quiet noise, a pleased sigh perhaps, and Lance felt the other man’s legs spreading more. 

There was a moment of relief, the lifting of a weight he hadn’t realized was there from his shoulders. He’d been half afraid that Keith wouldn’t allow this and that the reason his captors hadn’t attempted to use him again was disinterest but that didn’t seem to be the case. It was a bitter realization; it would serve his purposes as he tried to barter with the only thing he still had to use but it also meant he wouldn’t be safe from their interest. 

But better just the two of them then...more. Where other people could watch and see what he was reduced to. 

There was silence, save the sound of Keith’s breathing and Lance’s blood rushing in his ears, as he continued to massage the other prince through his pants. His cock started to stir, hardening beneath his touch, and Lance’s stomach clenched painfully then churned. He could taste bile in the back of his throat but he didn’t let that deter him. 

He could do this.

Who knew, maybe he’d even like it. 

He allowed himself a brief, bitter smile then took another breath to steady himself. He blinked his eyes open then undid Keith’s pants with clumsy hands. He managed to calm them long enough pull the Galra’s cock, furless and a deeper purple than the rest of him, free of it’s confines then...stopped. His eyes widened slightly as the reality of the situation hit him. He was touching Prince Keitheal’s dick. Staring at it. 

He hadn’t actually seen it before, when they’d...when Keith had…

He hadn’t been in much of a state to try and sneak a look, nor had he cared about it. But now it was in his hands, warm and thick, curving upwards towards Keith’s belly, and there was a red flush under the skin of the head. He stroked his hand up, fingers squeezing, and felt it twitch in his grasp. Another drag up and down then, pushing back the sourness rising up in his throat again, he opened his mouth and leaned in closer.

He licked the tip cautiously, finding it tasted like skin and nothing more than that, before opening his mouth wider to slide his mouth over it. Keith sighed again and one of the Prince's hands came down to rest on his shoulder.

He could do this. 

He couldn't get much in his mouth, though it felt like a lot as Keith's cock sat heavy on his tongue, but he tried as best he could, sucking and using his tongue to stroke over it. He used his hand on what he couldn't fit in his mouth; saliva that managed to escape his mouth dripped down Keith's shaft and provided a little relief from the friction. He was already making a mess, drooling and coughing anytime he tried to fit more into his mouth. Keith was quiet which was...surprisingly unnerving. A little feedback would have been nice to know if he was getting somewhere or just...doing something pointless or

"You're terrible." Keith said blandly. Lance started to pull back, face heating up, but a squeeze to his shoulder told him to stay put. Keith's other hand curled around the back of his skull, fingers sinking into his hair. "Watch your teeth." 

Lance didn't have time to dwell on what was about to happen when Keith pulled him in while pushing his hips up, forcing his cock deeper into his mouth. Lance gagged as it pushed deep, ramming against the back of his throat, tried to swallow around the invasion while pushing up his tongue against it. Keith drew back, cock gliding over his tongue and bitterness dripping onto it, let him inhale, and then jammed back in with the same force, sliding deeper into his throat. His throat tightened, convulsed, and Keith groaned as his hips stuttered up, making him take more in.

His eyes still burned and, as he forced himself to stay still, he was unsure if it was because of what was Keith was doing or...something else. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all terrible people. So am I. Party.


End file.
